


Some Diamonds are Blue

by Joyd



Series: Undergrad AU [5]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Multi, Nude Photos, Sexting, Tumblr Prompt, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6533449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joyd/pseuds/Joyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>(Cross): Want you to get your ass over here already</i>
  <br/>
  <i>(Cross): we’re starting without you</i>
  <br/>
  <i>(Cross): better hurry if you don’t want to miss out</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Some people you just can't help but mistrust when they text you unsolicited pictures.<br/>Cross is, without a doubt, one of those people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Diamonds are Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lethargicProfessor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/gifts).



> For the prompt: _“[Text] What are you wearing?”_
> 
> Will I ever use a title that's more than vaguely relevant to the fic?  
> Probably not.

It’s been a long day of boring lectures, an easy exam, and an awkward, unproductive group meeting, and all Winters wants to do is go home, lay on his couch, and maybe let Klaud & Cross take up space in the same room as him. Well, Klaud he wouldn’t mind, but it always depends on his mood and the phase of the moon if he can tolerate Cross with anything more than frayed nerves and the deep desire to punch him. Today, after all the other annoyances he’s dealt with, feels like a day Cross will be the lesser evil. 

This is his last class, though, and there’s only 30 more minutes before he can go home and not talk to any of these people for two days. It’s for this reason that he slips his phone out of his pocket and decides to waste a few minutes checking on his yard and glancing through Instagram, thoroughly uninterested in listening to his professor lecture on, if he remembers the current chapter correctly, José Guadalupe Posada. His phone buzzes with a text from Cross not a minute later, and he reconsiders his previous thoughts on the man. 

**(Cross): What are you wearing?**

Cross has sent him some pretty awful texts before, all to start a conversation, but this is just sad. Eyebrow raised and ignoring the curious glance of the girl in front of him, he types up a quick response. 

**(Me): Your mother’s garters. What do you want?**

He doesn’t wait for a response, already anticipating the snark he’ll get in response, and instead starts flicking through his apps, looking for something to occupy himself. Before he can find anything, though, Cross responds. The notification of a photo, though, has him eyeing the message app warily. It could either be awful or horrible, and he wasn’t sure which he was hoping for. 

He curls his hands around his phone to block the screen, just in case, despite there being no one on either side of him, before he dares open the text. 

The startled wheeze that escapes him draws the attention of the woman in front of him again, but he’s too distracted to notice her concerned glance. He can feel his face heating up, and he’s pretty sure his phone is about to break from the tight grip he has on it, but he can’t seem to muster up the focus to relax his hold. 

The picture was obviously taken while Cross was laying down, pointed slightly up at Klaud, who’s wearing one of Winter’s hoodies -zipped open in the front- and sitting on Cross’ hips, looking directly into the camera with her hair down and the faintest hint of a flush spread over her cheeks. 

The open zipper makes it plainly obvious that that’s all she’s wearing, and the placement of her hands is the only thing protecting both her modesty and Cross’. 

Behind her, barely visible over her shoulder, is his open closet, clothes falling off hangers and making it very, very clear where they are. He’s so distracted by the picture he barely notices the accompanying text, but when he does he can’t help but wonder, faintly, at Cross’ ability to type coherently, all things considered. 

**(Cross): Want you to get your ass over here already**

**(Cross): we’re starting without you**

**(Cross): better hurry if you don’t want to miss out**

The clock on his phone says there are still 20 minutes left to class, but whatever was left of his attention span has officially vacated the premises, so he shoves his laptop in his bag and follows it out the door, not even sparing a thought to whether the professor notices or not. He hasn’t missed a single day so far, he can spare the early departure mark if she did. 

He’s never made the 1/2 mile walk back to his apartment so fast in the entire time he’s lived there.

**Author's Note:**

> It took 3 orgasms before Klaud let him take that photo.  
> All for her, of course.
> 
> I also realized I implied that Cross has any sort of modesty.  
> He doesn't. That was entirely metaphorical on his part.


End file.
